Collection
by PuzzlePrince
Summary: A collection of short Vlad drabbles, involving both gen themes and pairings.
1. Stargazing

There were several ways Danny had imagined spending his Saturday night.

Being coerced into Vlad's balcony while the man stargazed was not one of them.

He sprawled out on one of the plush lawn chairs Vlad had set up specifically for him, arms crossed and scowl ever-present. It was astounding the lengths Vlad would go for the opportunity to play his mentor.

"Threatening the well-being of the town for this." Danny slapped his tongue against the roof of his mouth, tsking. "I'm not even doing anything, Vlad. You could have spent this quality time with your cat."

"Hush, Daniel." Vlad retreated a step from the balcony. "You were the one who flew into my vicinity. You should have expected I would take advantage."

Danny tilted his head back, examining Vlad against their star speckled backdrop. "Sometimes I mistakenly think you have better things to do, being the mayor of Amity Park and all."

"I'm always willing to make time for my little badger." Vlad smiled with a little too much teeth, approaching with two pairs of binoculars. "You didn't put up much of a fuss, if you'll recall." The lawn chair creaked as he lay himself down over it. "It's almost as if you wanted to go stargazing with me." He offered Danny one of the binoculars, which Danny reluctantly accepted.

"You wish," Danny huffed, staring up at the sky with as intense a bored expression as he could produce. "You're making me learn something that isn't even mandatory at school."

"You're actually going to make an effort to learn, then?" Vlad's smile broadened, but Danny made every effort to ignore it. "Now then, if you follow the direction of my finger…" the elder man began, extending a hand towards the sky to point out a specific cluster of stars. Danny set the binoculars against his eyes and followed the direction of Vlad's pointing, looking up at the bright strip of light that formed the milky way with some amount of awe.


	2. That's disgusting, Daniel

**Warning:** Gore-ish?

* * *

"Daniel! Stop that!"

"Stop what?"

"You know exactly what I'm referring to!"

In the middle of prodding the tips of his fingers to a small flesh wound on his thigh, still leaking ectoplasm, Daniel looked up at Vlad.

"Wait… this?" He stuck his finger right into the flesh, feeling little more than a sizzle of discomfort. It was already beginning to heal.

"Yes — that!" Vlad very nearly screeched.

Staring directly at Vlad, Danny slowly pressed the tip of his finger further and further into the wound, until Vlad's face had gone a deep, horrified magenta.

"Th— that's _disgusting_! Not to mention _unhygienic_!" Turning away (and nearly tripping over in the process), Vlad made a hasty escape for the bathroom. "I can't believe you would — nnng." He opened the bathroom door, stepped inside, and slammed it shut.

"I can't believe you're squeamish!" Danny hollered, and promptly dissolved into a fit of laughter when he heard Vlad's disgruntled 'oh, be quiet!'.


	3. How to teach your human

**Warning:** Random thug characters, violence, and hinted non-con.

* * *

Being the vessel for a ghostly entity has its benefits and drawbacks. Living in a castle, a renowned billionaire, Vlad had long since concluded that the benefits outweighed the drawbacks. He'd thought this would be a stable opinion, but Plasmius had become increasingly unpredictable and harder to control the longer they interacted, and now the ghost had a personality that was in constant conflict with his own.

His teeth were bared, stained with blood. After ten minutes of being beaten with fists, feet, and pipes, the front of his dress shirt matched the color of his tie. "_Plasmius_," he snarled. "_This is no time for a lovers spat. Get me out of this_."

"_Why should I do anything for you, Vladimir? You've done nothing but defy me as of recently_."

"_So not taking your advice is 'defying' you now? You're being over-dramatic_."

"_If you're trying to convince me to help you, you're doing a piss poor job of it_."

A combat boot nudged his chin and he flinched in preparation for another kick to the face. As his hair was being held at the roots to keep him still, he had no chance of evading. "_For god sakes Plasmius—_" The thought was cut off by his own strangled cry as the boot connected with his jaw, jarring it painfully. Another boot connected with his ribs, his stomach, and then he was on the ground being pummeled by innumerable fists, ones he would have ordinarily been able to dodge with ease. He whimpered and moaned and withered, and Plasmius laughed in the back of his mind.

"Please, please," he pleaded, both internally and externally. His voice was barely above a whisper, and wholly ignored by the thugs beating him. "They're going to kill me this time!"

"_Then perhaps you shouldn't have overshadowed their leader for your own gain._"

"_Oh, God, you don't even care, Plasmius!_" He pulled his limbs in tight against himself. "_Help me!_"

"_Oh, calm down. I'll stop them in — about sixty minutes. They ought to have tired themselves out by that time._"

"_No, no, no, no, y-you have to help me now, you—_"

"_I can do whatever I like_."

"_Please—_"

"_Try rolling onto your stomach. It'll help_."

There was an abrupt, deafening silence - like a phone cord being cut - and Vlad was alone.

* * *

"_There, I dealt with them. Now stop crying, would you? It wasn't that bad_."

"_…Vladimir?_"

"_Are you really giving me the cold shoulder?_"

Vlad ached all over, and it didn't improve his mood any to see he was surrounded by the freshly mangled bodies of his aggressors. Wiping tears off his puffy, blood-stained face, Vlad rolled onto his hands and knees and shakily rose to his feet. His pants and blazer jacket were beyond salvaging, but he wrapped what was left of the jacket around his waist before he began a slow shuffle towards a group of chairs. His knees audibly knocked together until he had managed to find a backrest to lean on.

"_Alright, perhaps I was out of line in this case, but to be fair, I am a ghost. Such things are in my nature._"

He gingerly sat down in one of the chairs.

"_I care for you, you know. I just have an odd way of showing it sometimes._"

"_I apologize for ignoring your need for assistance._"

"_Talk to me, please._"

"_**TALK TO ME**_." Vlad grimaced, jolting in his chair and hissing when the action aggravated his injuries.

"Plasmius…" The name began in a scowl that ended in a feeble whisper. Unable to will himself to raise his voice, Vlad slumped his shoulders in defeat. "…I want to go back to my castle, Plasmius. Take me back to my castle."

"_What do we say…?_"

"…Please."

Warmth engulfed his chest, like a body settling over his own, and he could almost feel Plasmius' lips moving against his ear as the ghost responded, "_Of course, Vladimir. You can always rely on me to take care of you_."


	4. Vivisection

**Warning:** Dissection.

* * *

The smell is almost palpable, as if it's accumulating on his tongue with every stuttering inhale. It has a sharp taste, like electricity. Like lime. Like licking the end of a battery, even. He's never managed to draw blood on Vlad before, but he never would have imagined it to look or smell or taste as pleasant as it does.

And that makes him want to violently retch until his entire being is purged of it.

That isn't even the worst part. The worst part is, Vlad is still conscious and withering. His red eyes wide with unbridled fear and pain, unshed tears rimming their edges. Danny slides his hand deeper into the hole in the other halfas chest and Vlad jerks hopelessly against the Fenton operating table, shrieking in agony.

"Daniel— Daniel— _please_—"

Danny can't help it, he starts sobbing so hard that his hand twists inside Vlad, and the man pleas are momentarily silenced by his own gargling moan.

"I'm s-so sorry," he murmurs in a feeble attempt at consolation, but he has to reach further into Vlad, fingers clawing and stretching to fight past constricting organs. The trauma causes the blood to overflow and rivulet down Vlad's sides and over the edges of the table to puddle on the floor. As it soaks into his boots, he draws in a deep, whistling breath, and looks away from Vlad's pinched features so he can focus. "Y-you'll heal after t-this, it'll be o-okay," he continues in a whisper. "I-I'm almost there. Al- almost got it. It'll be okay."

His fingers struggle past plusating muscle until he can just barely make out the cavity where an item of monumental power has been stored. Giving Vlad a quick glance of concern, he reaches with his free hand for the scapel sitting on a nearby shelf.

"O-okay, I— I need to dislodge it and pull i-it out now," he states.

Vlad only whimpers.


End file.
